Ink's POV, 1st person

"I-"

"I'm s-s-s-sorry!"

"P-please, I didn't mean it! I didn't know!"

"D-d-don't leave me alone here! Please!"

"I'm sorry!"

"I-"

"K1d! W4k3 up, d4mm17!"

Somebody shook me hard.

"E-E-Error?"

I opened my eye sockets. I was still in that empty white place, in a scarf burrito. That Error person woke me up from a bad dream.

I think I'm crying.

Error's POV, 3rd person

Error had just been trying to come up with something to do with Ink-erm, Paint-when he sensed something making his strings move.

He's like a spider; he knows when somebody's messing with his web.

He expected to find Ink Jr. awake and trying to get out of the little tangle of strings, but instead Paint was tossing around in his sleep, like he was having a bad dream.

So he woke the child. It took a lot more name-calling than he expected.

...And by name-calling I mean he was yelling 'Paint' a lot. Because that's his name now.

Once Error finally managed to wake him, Paint struggled his arms out of his cocoon and reached for him. For a moment, Error saw a full-grown Ink in his place, reaching forward to try and choke him to death.

He tensed, almost reading his strings to fight back, but it passed.

Paint just needed somebody or something to hold. Probably he was looking for a hug, but Error had already passed his limit of touching for today.

Instead, he lowered some of his dolls from the ceiling. Thinking that something familiar would be better for him despite his newest memory problems, Error gave Paint his Dream doll. After all, they had been good friends for a long time.

As expected, Paint latched onto it immediately, clutching it like a lifeline as he cried. Error silently marveled at how a simple nightmare could send a child into such a panic. If he had a nightmare, he'd just shrug it off. Then again, he was used to them, so maybe this was normal for people.

Paint sniffed, giving the doll of Dream all of his attention. It seemed to be calming him down; which was good, because Error couldn't stand hearing his crying any longer. The loud noise reminded him too much of the voices.

...Why are you helping him?

Error flinched in surprise. Speaking of the devils. Although this voice was much quieter; in fact, it spoke at a bearable volume. And it had a good point.

H3ll 1f 1 kn0w, Error thought to himself. Bu7 17'5 7h3 r19h7 7h1n9 70 d0, 15n'7 17? B351d35; F473 w0uld f1nd 3ve3n w0r53 7h1n95 70 d0 70 m3 1f 1 k1ll3d h3r 7ru3 50n.

The voice didn't respond. If they were going to stay silent for this entire episode with Ink being a kid, Error wasn't even going to think about complaining.

He realized Paint's sniveling had quieted in the few seconds it took to respond to the voice. He turned to the small skeleton, who was watching him out of the corner of his eye socket. When he saw Error move, he faced him.

"H0w...h0w y0u d01n9, k1dd0?"

Error internally cringed at the tone in his voice. He sounded partly nervous and kinda like a creep. The thought made him suppress a shiver of disgust. 

Paint, however, didn't seem to notice. He rubbed his nose and said quietly, "Okay..." He said nothing else, just clung to the doll and stared at nothing. 

Error got the feeling he was supposed to do something, but what? He didn't know what to do with kids! The only time he was ever around any was when he'd had to destroy their universe, and he was fairly certain that wasn't the right way to take care of a kid.

Finally, he asked, "...Wh47'd y0u dr34m 4b0u7?"

Paint re-focused on him. The ink spot on his chin had somehow managed to smear as he rubbed at his face, yet Error couldn't see any on the boy's sleeves or scarf.

"I d-dreamed that I was...I was doing something really bad," he sniffed. "B-but I thought I was doing something good! A-and then everything around me started to turn black and dissapear and it was my fault! And-and there was a really scary voice that said that if I hadn't killed someone, it wouldn't have happened. He said that I-" Paint was working himself back into hysterics. He broke off with a sob. "He said that I was a h-h-horrible person!"

"4-4h-" Error could not find in in himself to deny this. But, he found a few comforting words. 

"C'm0n, k1d. 17 w45 ju57 4 n19h7m4r3. 17 d035n'7 m34n 4ny7h1n9." 

Great word choice, one of the voices said sarcastically. 

Error ignored them. "17 w45n'7 r34l."

Paint seemed somewhat comforted by this. He lifted his head up from the little Dream in his arms. "C-can I have a hug Error?"

Error's eyes began to cover in those annoying black glitches and he could feel the rest of his body glitching out as well. "Uh- L00k k1d, 1'm n07 r34lly 4... 4 hu991n9 p3r50n," he said. He tried to sound calm and nice, but Paint started to tear up. "0h 90d pl3453-pl3453 d0n'7 cry 4941n-"

Paint started whining.

Error sighed in defeat. "4lr19h7, f1n3; c0m3 h3r3." 

As Paint got up, Error tried to brace himself for the burning sensation he knew would come with physical contact.

He still wasn't prepared for Paint to literally launch his little self into Error and start sobbing uncontrollably into his dust-and-blood-covered jacket. 

After a moment, Error sighed and wrapped his arms carefully around the kid. It seemed to help, although Paint's crying wasn't getting any better. Wasn't he supposed to stop crying once he got a hug?

You are a spineless wimp, the voices laughed. It sounded less harsh somehow, but it didn't matter. The words and the laughing was too familiar.

He didn't realize he was trembling from instinctual fear. But the little artist boy did.

Ink's POV, 1st person

Why is he shaking?

Is he scared, too?

I should ask.

I tried to stop crying and stepped back from Mr. Error. 

"Did you have a bad dream too, Error?" 

He stopped shaking and got really still. He sighed and said, "1 d1dn'7 sl33p, 4c7u4lly."

I frowned. "What? Why not?"

He looked at me for a second. Then, he sort of smiled and put one of his hands on my skull.

I noticed he was still shaking.

"1 d0n'7 n33d 70 sl33p," he told me. "Bu7 1f y0u r34lly w4n7 70 kn0w, 1 u5u4lly h4v3 4 h4rd 71m3 sl33p1n9 wh3n 1 7ry."

"Do you have nightmares that bad?"

Error's POV, 3rd person

Error flinched.

Damn, this kid was observant. 

"50-50m371-1-1m35," he murmured. 

It was a half-truth. He did sometimes have horrendous night terrors. Usually, though, the voices woke him up after maybe five minutes when he tried to take a nap.

Little Paint's eye lights were big, and full of childish, innocent sympathy. He hugged Error again, despite his protesting, and promised, "I'll keep your nightmares away!"

Like he could actually do anything about it.

Dream was panicking.

Ink had been missing for almost 48 hours, and there was still no sign of him.

He'd gone so far as to try and ask Fresh, who was the second most dangerous being in the multiverse, if he knew anything.

Fresh simply laughed and assured him that 'Inky brah' was probably fine.

Probably.

Meaning even he didn't know.

And Fresh usually knows everything.

Which only made Dream more anxious.

Orange, UnderSwap Papyrus, didn't have a clue. Reaper was just as helpful. Classic? Classic hadn't seen Ink since the last time everyone met up to try and find a way to get rid of Error.

Nobody knew where he might be.

He only other option would be to ask Nightmare, but Dream was well aware that he and his gang wouldn't tell him even if they did know.

Nightmare was watching TV with Dust, Killer, Horror, and Cross when Error appeared from a portal.

"Hey, Error," Killer said, taking his attention away from the important task of stealing the popcorn from Cross. 

"What's up?" Cross asked, shoving Killer off the couch and holding the bowl high over his head.

"Y0u m19h7 w4n7 70 p4u53 y0ur 5h0w," he said, amusement and anxiety in his glitching voice, "B3c4u53 1 n33d 70 73ll y0u 4 l0n9 570ry." He glanced at Nightmare with a raisedd bone brow. 

The octopus snorted. "Yeah, alright, you caught me. I gave the kid a nightmare. Sue me."

Confusion ensued from the rest of the group, but Error laughed dryly. "7h0u9h7 50."

As Error told them about the small child that had somehow been brought into his reluctant care, they only got more confused. 

"Wait, how did he even get there?" Dust asked. Error shrugged.

"That would explain why Dream's been so anxious lately," Horror mused. "I actually saw him go up to Fresh and ask him something. Guess he was looking for him."

The idea of Fresh knowing where the amnesiac child was seemed to make Error uneasy. He shivered.

"R19h7..."

"Why'd you want to tell us?" Horror asked curiously. 

Error winced. "Y34h, uh, h3r3'5 7h3 7h1n9: 1 571ll h4v3 70 d0 my j0b, 4nd 1'm l1k3 n1n37y p3rc3n7 5ur3 7h3 k1d 571ll h45 4 f34r 0f wh173 5p4c35?"

Realization came to them at once.

"You want us to babysit In-Paint while you're doing your job?" Nightmare asked, partly honored that he's trusted with such a task as taking care of another life, and partly incredulous that he's being asked to take care of a toddler.

Error scratched the back of his skull sheepishly, small flakes of dust flowing to the ground like grey snowflakes. "1f y0u w0uldn'7 m1nd," he muttered.

"Where is he now?" Cross asked curiously. 

Error cracked a smile. "Wh47, y0u 7h1nk 1'd l34v3 7h3 l177l3 d3v1l 1n 7h3 4n71-v01d 50 1 c0uld c0m3 b4ck 70 4 m355?"

Error glanced down at his feet, and a shy little head poked out from behind him. "H-hi," he said timidly.

He..

Was adorable.

They couldn't deny it.

It was obvious that it was the same Creator that had been slowly destroying the multiverse, but at the same time...

Even Nightmare was tempted to scoop him up and adopt him. And Nightmare hated kids.

The Bad Sanses team accepted.

And now, Paint is a little innocent bean in the midst of murderers who will keep him safe from the evil clutches of Fate.

And Dream, if the Greater God decides to use him to take Ink back.

Until then, Paint was theirs to care for.

And Error was still wondering why he was doing this for his old enemy.